Chapter Twenty-Six
After three hours of near silence, Vickie found herself going stir crazy. She glanced across the table where Thatcher was furiously scribbling on a notepad. She really had to admire his single-mindedness. He’d put on a pair of round wire-rimmed glasses at some point, and she couldn’t help but think how cute he was in them.
She cleared her throat, but he didn’t even look up. Finally, she couldn’t stand it any longer. “I think I’ll put on a pot of coffee,” she said, rising from the table.
He looked up as if he’d forgotten she was even there. “Sounds good.” He stretched his arms over his head. “Have you found anything interesting?”
Vickie filled the carafe with cold water and poured it into the coffee maker. “I’ve found one scholar who was adamant that Lincoln was engaged to Ann Rutledge and that the relationship was a significant one. And I’ve found one who says there isn’t any proof, but even if it happened it doesn’t matter.” She grinned. “You think they cancel each other out?”
“I’m sort of in the same boat. I did find one that alluded to the fact that the two shared written correspondences, but there isn’t a reference for that particular point.” He sighed. “This might not have been the best way to go about it.”
The aroma of coffee began to filter through the small space. Vickie felt more energetic already. “I don’t know. I sort of think this gives us a good starting point.” She pulled two mugs from the cabinet. “This way, we know what others have found out about the situation. I feel certain we aren’t the first people to search for these documents.” She shrugged. “It stands to reason that we can learn from those who came before us.”
A broad grin spread over Thatcher’s face. “I like the way you think. That’s exactly what I tell my students. Learn from both past mistakes and past successes.” He stood up from the table and walked over to the coffee pot where Vickie stood.
There was a tiny patch of stubble on his jaw where he’d missed a spot during his morning shave. She hid a smile. Something about that tiny patch was so endearing, the urge to run her fingers over it surprised her. She quickly turned away from him and focused of the brewing coffee. “Do you like cream and sugar?”
“Just a bit of sugar will do. No cream.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms.
She scooped a teaspoon of sugar into his mug. “Here you go. Let me know if you need more sugar.”
He took a sip. “Perfect. I needed a break.” He grinned. “And some caffeine.” Thatcher carried his mug back over to the table and sat down.
Just as Vickie was settled back into place with another volume about the life of Lincoln, there was a knock at the door. She met Thatcher’s startled gaze. “Sorry. I’ll go see who it is.”
She peeked through the peep hole. Dawn and a muscular guy stood in the hallway, holding hands. She’d texted Dawn last night and told her to stop in the next time she had the chance. As she’d promised Kristy, she was going to ask about the possibility of a set up. But now certainly wouldn’t be the time to ask. Vickie threw open the door. “Hi,” she grinned.
“I guess I should have texted you before we just showed up,” Dawn said once the pair was inside. “But we were on the way out and I wanted to see how you were.” She flashed a dazzling smile. “And I also wanted you to meet someone.” She turned toward the handsome man at her side. “Vickie Harris, meet Jason Redd.”
Jason gave Vickie a nod. “Nice to meet you, Vickie. I’ve heard so much about you.” He grinned. His tanned face and arms told Vickie that he spent a lot of time outdoors. His dark hair was closely cropped and he had brilliant green eyes. She could definitely see why Dawn was so smitten.
“Likewise,” Vickie said.
Dawn poked her head into the dining room then turned back with wide eyes. “I didn’t know you had company ,” she hissed, then grinned mischievously. “Don’t you want to introduce us?”
Vickie hadn’t planned on introducing them to Thatcher, but she supposed it would be rude not to do so now. Especially since he could probably hear every word of their conversation. She motioned for Dawn and Jason to follow her into the dining room.
Thatcher looked up from the thick book he was poring over and removed his glasses.
Vickie made the necessary introductions and exchanged amused glances with Dawn as the two men sized one another up, then firmly shook hands.
“We’re on our way to a Nationals game,” Dawn said.
Vickie raised her eyebrows in question.
“Baseball,” Jason said, laughing. “I take it you’re not a fan?”
“My knowledge of sports is pretty much non-existent,” she grinned. “Other than the badminton class I had to take in college to fulfill my P.E. requirement.
Thatcher and Jason wore identical expressions.
“What? Badminton is a sport, right?” Vickie looked at Dawn for support. “Come on, back me up. It isn’t exactly like you’re a sports girl either.”
Dawn held up her hands. “You’ve got me there. The whole reason we’re going to a Nationals game is because I made the mistake of telling Jason that I’d never been to one.”
Jason laughed. “I told her that it was a crime and that everyone needed to spend at least one summer night at the ballpark.”
“He was apparently some kind of all-star baseball player in college,” Dawn explained. “Although I have to take his word for it since he conveniently left his pictures and yearbooks with his mother in Alabama.”
“You played college ball?” Thatcher looked interested. “Where’d you go to school?”
“University of Alabama.”
“Roll Tide.” Thatcher grinned.
Vickie and Dawn exchanged glances. “I’m sorry, what language are you speaking?” Vickie asked.
The men burst out laughing.
“I did my graduate work at Vandy, so I’m well versed in southern sports teams,” Thatcher explained to Jason.
“I miss playing baseball. I’ve been helping one of my co-workers coach his kid’s little league team, but it isn’t the same as getting to play. I started playing on a church-league softball team a few weeks ago. It’s pretty fun.” Jason grinned at Dawn. “We’ve got a game tomorrow and Dawn’s going to come cheer me on.”
Vickie cut her eyes at Dawn. What was going on with her? Dawn normally spent her weekends going to fancy dinners and the theatre. And now she’d turned into a sports fan?
“Do you play?” Jason leaned against the kitchen counter and looked at Thatcher expectantly.
Thatcher nodded. “It’s been awhile, but yeah. Last spring I got talked into playing in a student/faculty game. I guess that’s the last time I was on the field.”
Jason shrugged. “You should come out tomorrow afternoon. We can always use another player.”
Thatcher met Vickie’s gaze. “We have a lot of work to do tomorrow, so I’m not sure.”
She could see the excitement in his eyes. “I’m fine with getting an early start tomorrow, so your afternoon will be free.”
“Great then. Here, let me write down the name of the field.” Jason sat down at the dining room table across from Thatcher and began scribbling on a notepad.
Dawn grasped Vickie’s arm and pulled her into the living room. “He’s very cute,” she whispered. “Don’t tell me this is the man who had you all riled up the other night.”
Vickie nodded. “One and the same.”
“I knew I was right when I said you should be his assistant. Even if you aren’t dating, he’s still fun to look at.” She grinned.
“What’s with you and Mr. Sports? I didn’t think that was your type.”
The blush that crept across Dawn’s face was priceless. Vickie had never seen her friend in such a state.
“I guess sometimes the right guy can make you forget you ever thought you had a type.” Dawn winked. “You’ll see.”
Jason strode into the living room. “Babe, we’re gonna be late if we don’t go.” He turned to Vickie as they reached the door. “Hey, you should come with Dawn tomorrow. So she’ll have someone to sit with in the bleachers.”
Dawn’s eyes lit up. “Yes. You should. I’ll text you.”
Before Vickie could utter an excuse, they were gone. She slowly walked back into the dining room.
“I’m going to have another cup of coffee. Do you want one?” Thatcher stood at the coffee pot.
“Yes, please.” She sat her cup on the counter and watched him carefully fill the cup.
Jake peeked his head around the corner and seemed to decide it was safe to make an entrance. The cat preened and stretched his way to the center of the kitchen, then collapsed as if the walk from the bedroom had been a great effort.
Thatcher looked down at the cat and grinned. “Hey, kitty.” He met Vickie’s eyes. “I’ve been here for several hours and didn’t know you had a cat.” He knelt down and scratched Jake behind the ears. “He must be a hermit.”
“I have two cats. They tend to hide when there are people around.” She smiled. “This is Jake. Lloyd is a little shyer, but he’ll probably venture out at some point.”
Thatcher stood up and wrinkled nose at her. “Jake and Lloyd? Those are unusual names for cats.”
She shrugged. “Jake Ryan and Lloyd Dobler are characters in two of my favorite movies.” She expected that he’d ask what the movies were, but he didn’t. Instead he nodded.
“Ready to get back to work?” He handed her a thick book with Abraham Lincoln’s face on the cover. “This might be just the one we need to put us on the right track.”
She grabbed her coffee cup and settled back at the table. Back to work.